


In Which Percy Is Drunk

by maydayparade8123



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [17]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Drunk Dialing, Drunk Texting, F/M, I'm going to stop now, Texting, drunk, drunk percy hell yeHA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydayparade8123/pseuds/maydayparade8123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... and he's frustrated. He might also be pining, but that's all in the details.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Fill for a prompt: "Can you write a drunk percy story"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Percy Is Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> i have never been drunk so do not expect great things out of this also i wrote it in like 10 minutes maybe
> 
> disclaimer: i don't own the percy jackson and the olympians series, the heroes of olympus series, or any characters i adopt from either. merely the characterization and plot are mine. i don't own any books, movies, music, or television programs mention.

;;;

-

**6:42 PM . To: Annabeth**

whyyyyy dotn you go on datse w meeee

-

**6:44 PM . To: Annabeth**

thsi sis a very seiries queidtion

-

**6:45 PM . Incoming call from Annabeth**

**-**

Percy rolls his eyes at his screen and has to try a few times before he manages to hit the answer key. “What?”

"Are you drunk or are you just being stupid?" is her greeting.

Percy frowns. “Even if I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t be drunk.” And he’s pretty sure he said that backwards, or maybe it was right—whatever. The only thing that makes sense right now is he and Annabeth.

"So, you’re drunk," she decides, and Percy shrugs. "Where are you?"

"None of your business," he grumbles, promptly hanging up on her. He turns up his stereo and appreciates the fact that his mom went on vacation and left the liquor cabinet unlocked. God bless the trusting mothers.

His phone rings a few seconds later, but he ignores it, instead throwing an arm over his eyes and relaxing. He likes relaxing. (He also likes Annabeth, but that’s kind of what got him into this position in the first place, so he’s trying his hardest not to think about that.)

He answers his phone after it starts ringing for the fifth time. “ _What_?”

“Remember that you’re the one who texted me,” Annabeth argues before huffing out a sigh. “Are you home? Safe?”

“Yes,  _Mom_.” He feels like rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t. That’s something Annabeth does. Annabeth doesn’t hang up on him, though, so he does that. Again.

He also makes a mental note to ask his future, sober self why he decided it would be a good idea to text her. Sadly, his sober self only thinks a small bit more rationally than his inebriated self, so Percy shrugs. It probably would have happened anyways.

He starts singing along to the music playing and tries not to think about what his life has become. He’s almost positive that he sounds  _amazing_  right now—like, American Idol or The Voice worthy. He’s a quality singer. He could potentially be the next big thing, he’s sure of it. He has to show someone.

Percy unlocks his phone and dials Annabeth’s number before he really thinks about it and she answers after three rings. “Hello?”

“Listen! Annabeth,  _listen_ , I sound so good. I could be famous.”

“Sound good doing wh—”

Percy starts singing along again—it could be Katy Perry but he also has a feeling it’s Ke$ha—and he _smashes_  it. He knows he’s a good singer. He should get signed, or something, that way he can drop out of school. “Did you hear?”

Annabeth is quiet for a second, and when she starts talking Percy frowns. “Yeah—I. Yeah. I hea—” She breaks off into a fit of laughter.

“You won’t laugh at me when I’m famous!” Percy says as loudly as he can manage. His jaw feels weird. Maybe it fell off. “My jaw fell off,” he adds.

“Are you okay? Wait, you’re talking. Of course you’re okay. You wouldn’t be able to talk if your jaw hadactua—”

Annabeth is getting boring, Percy decides, so he hangs up on her. He fumbles with his phone and struggles to get to his game apps, but a text interrupts him before he can search out a mindless game.

-

**7:13 PM . From: Annabeth**

I don’t go on dates with you because you don’t ask.

-

And—that’s a lie. Percy’s sure that’s a lie. He’s asked Annabeth a milion times.

-

**7:14 PM . To: Annabeth**

liar liar liaarrrrrrrrtrrr i ask oyu all the tiem

-

**7:14 PM . From: Annabeth**

Okay.

-

He scowls at his phone. What kind of answer is that?

-

**7:16 PM . To: Annabeth**

annieeee anna ann beth go on a  date w/ me seee did itt

-

**7:18 PM . From: Annabeth**

That’s not asking.

**-**

**7:18 PM . To: Annabeth**

yes it is

-

**7:23 PM . From: Annabeth**

Okay.

-

Percy stares at his screen like it’s the one who’s doing the betraying. He calls Annabeth again. “What are you even  _talking_  about?”

“You’re going to have to repeat that,” Annabeth says drily. “I can’t hear you through all the slurring.”

“‘M not slurring.”

“Okay.”

“Shut up, stop saying ‘okay’! It’s so annoying. You’re so annoying.”

“Then  _stop_  calling me!” Annabeth answers, irritation evident. She hangs up on him, this time, and Percy’s chest feels weird. He looks at her contact on his phone, the way her name plainly says ‘Annabeth’ when it had a million hearts by it for months. That is, until she saw all of the hearts. He deleted them pretty soon after that and chalked it up to be a prank in the locker room. He stares at the picture, having to blink a few times before it focuses properly, but he knows that it’s the one he took of her on the first day of school this year.

“Annabeth,” he whines into his pillow. It makes him feel better, so he pulls the blanket over his head while Ke$ha Perry or what-the-fuck-ever sings about something that got away. Percy continues to say Annabeth’s name in a variety of voices, but he stops when his eyes start to sting.

Most people, when drunk, develop a single personality. There’s flirty drunks, crazy drunks, sad drunks, happy drunks, angry drunks—and Percy is every single one of them. He’s like a schizo-drunk. “Why do I have a crush on Annabeth?” he groans into his pillow. “Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb,  _dumb_ , I’m so dumb—”

His phone starts vibrating where it sits in his palm, so Percy looks at it with another groan.

-

**7:36 PM . From: Annabeth**

Sorry, that was rude.

**-**

**7:36 PM . From: Annabeth**

Its just really easy to lose my patience with you

-

Percy notes that this text lacks the grammar Annabeth is so insistent upon using. He also notes that his mind is starting to feel less hazy, and he wonders if he was ever properly drunk.

**-**

**7:38 PM . To: Annabeth**

why

-

**7:40 PM . From: Annabeth**

It would probably be a waste if I told you while you were drunk

-

Percy nods along with her message; doesn’t even think about the fact that she can’t see him. He’s still in that pleasant zone between drunk and not drunk, so the next message practically writes itself.

-

**7:42 PM . To: Annabeth**

i like you sooooooooooo much liek an stupid amoutn of mcuh

-

**7:42 PM . To: Annabeth**

i cant even say how mchu it’s jsust a a lot i want to do stupdi thingssss like be yoru boyrfirned and stuff

-

He feels so embarrassed after that message that he flicks his phone off of his bed and drops his face into his pillow again. Sleep sounds inviting, despite the fact that it hasn’t even reached eight o’clock.

He thinks he hears his phone vibrate a few times, but he’s already asleep by the time he decides to get up and check his messages.

;;;

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr - [maydayparade8123](http://maydayparade8123.tumblr.com)


End file.
